


Ethereal

by DonTheRock



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: 2000s, Canada, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Explicit Language, Fluff, Gay, Gay Male Character, Love, M/M, No Smut, Romance, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonTheRock/pseuds/DonTheRock
Summary: Set in 2003, Ricky Bowen's dad takes a summer job in the town of Stale, B.C. There, Ricky meets EJ Caswell, a boy who changes his perception of love in a time when the views of society are changing with them.
Relationships: RJ – Relationship, Ricky Bowen & E.J. Caswell, Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell
Comments: 73
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Ricky's POV**

If you've ever been to Canada, then you know that there's one word that can describe most of it quickly: big. It's big, yet there are so few people. There's so much space being wasted on the air. And there are clusters of people in the cities where they all retreated to be together. I wonder what's so bad about everywhere else that makes no one want to live there. More than that, though, I wonder what must be so strange about the people who actually live in places like this that make them want to stay here. Do they find the city too packed or too loud? Maybe the people out here aren't just wasting this space. Maybe they just take up more space. All their footsteps go farther out here than in the city, because the map is nearly endless, and all of that space is available to them. There's so much space, but nothing to do with it. I don't usually think about things this intently, but out here, there's pretty much nothing else to do except think. 

In Stale, B.C., the roads are red dirt with some rocks that have been driven over so many times that they're all packed under the dirt now. I don't know where the red dirt comes from, because other dirt isn't that colour. I imagine the rain must turn the ground from dry dust to a crime scene splashed on your clothes. The people here must be used to that, or maybe they're just good at avoiding it. I haven't seen a rainfall yet. I just got here yesterday. My dad took a temporary job opportunity out here to work with some other geologists researching rocks in the mountains and volcanoes nearby. He works at the university in the town a kilometre away, one that is more than seventeen streets, called Magresborg. I'm not sure whether dumb town names is just a Canadian thing or a mid-western B.C. thing, but clearly it's a thing. 

There is one road that isn't red, and that's the one that streams through the city, being the exit and the entrance in two directions. The fact that the only paved street is the one to get out should be a sign that there's truly nothing desirable about this town. But the town isn't the reason I agreed to come here. I could've stayed with Big Red in Salt Lake City for the summer while my dad came here alone, but he said it was a chance to see a landscape I never had before, which is true. I've never been living in a house surrounded by mountains and coniferous trees before. The trees basically wrap the whole town like a present. The only way to know what it looks like is breaking through that wrapping paper and turning the corner into the town. 

The other weird thing about being here is that the people already know me. I was just walking by the post office, and the man working there asked if I was the boy moving into the house on 5th Avenue. Of course, my initial instinct was to call the police and tell them that there was a stalker talking to me, but then I realized that this is Stale, and it would be more weird if he didn't notice someone was moving into the town. I also remembered that the police station in this town is just a small red building beside the fire department where a few RCMP hang out, so I would probably be able to just yell and have them hear me. 

I've basically just been walking around so far, because I don't have anything else to do. I can't call Big Red, because the long-distance charges on my cell phone would be crazy, and my dad gave me a limit for long-distance calls made this summer on the house phone, so I need to be strategic with only calling when I have something to say. And right now there is exactly nothing to say. 

There's a clack every time my skateboard passes over a break in the sidewalk blocks. A few other people are walking around today, getting groceries or coffee at the Tim Hortons. As I get to a corner with a set of lights, I hop off my skateboard and press the button. After one round of lights for the cars goes through, and I don't get a signal, I press it again. A second later, someone else steps up beside me, a boy with dark brown hair around my age, looking like he could be a member of a popular boy band if he didn't live in the middle of nowhere. 

"So, uh," he says, leaning over to me a little, "that button doesn't actually work. You just have to walk when there aren't cars coming."

"Oh."

I nod and step into the street, and the boy walks across with me. 

"You're the new kid, right?" he asks. 

"That's me."

He glances down at my feet as we step up onto the opposite sidewalk and says, "Well, if you want a tip for living here, don't wear white shoes."

Red dust has been ingrained in the fabric of my white Sk8-Hi Vans. If I manage to get all of it out, it will be a miracle. 

"Yeah," I respond. "I didn't really think that through."

"Try dish soap and warm water," he says. 

"Do you stain your shoes a lot?" I ask with a slight chuckle. 

"I'm not exactly careful with keeping them clean," he replies. Then he adds, "I'm EJ. My dad works at the university with your dad."

"Wow, I've hardly been here a day, and everyone already knows everything about me."

"That can't be everything there is about you," EJ says. 

"I ride a skateboard, I wear white shoes, and I'm here for the summer because of my dad's job," I summarize. "There's not much more than that."

"How about your name?" He raises his eyebrows as a smile lifts his lips subtly. 

"Ricky," I answer. "Now you know everything."

"I doubt that."

"You don't believe me?"

"You just don't seem like the kind of person who would let someone he just met know everything about him." EJ looks at me for another moment, and I feel like a house with the door left unlocked, exposed but only if he tries to enter. He doesn't. Instead, he starts to turn away, saying, "I've got to go, but I'll see you around."

I give him a wave as he walks away. After a second, I drop my skateboard back down on the concrete and continue my own travel. I never had a direction in mind, but I figure it would be weird to go the same way as the boy who just went left, so I take a right instead. 


	2. Chapter 2

**EJ's POV**

That boy must be really popular where he's from. He'd probably be popular anywhere. I doubt it will take long for the girls here to notice him and make some kind of girl pact, deciding which of them gets to be with him. Girls seem to do that. I wonder if it's something they do everywhere or if it's just here. I don't know, but I know that once they've made their choice, the options for a guy become way narrowed down. You now can only date one girl from each friend group, and which girl is already preselected by the committee of girls. If you want to find out who it is, you have to be tapped into the girl network, or else you have to be really good at reading signs. I'm really not good at that, but my friends have said it typically involves something like a twirl of the hair or a flirty touch. I expect those kind of actions to start soon with that boy. 

Ricky was his name. I couldn't forget it if I tried. He's been on my mind the whole day, and I kept comparing all his qualities to mine, trying to find the matches in there. I don't know how to skateboard, but he knows how to skateboard. He has brown eyes. I don't, but I bet all the girls would love his. And he had a really attractive smile, another quality I'm sure girls would swoon over. But I'm not a girl, so obviously I'm not swooning. I just think about it sometimes, how a girl would react to seeing a boy like him. 

"Hey, EJ!" shouts my dad as soon as I step in the house. 

I take off my shoes and hang my jacket on the hook before responding, "Yes?"

"I'm taking Peter out for a driving lesson before dinner. Can you do the dishes while we're out?"

Peter is my younger brother by a year. He's really determined to get his licence and be able to drive without an adult, but I really don't get why he cares so much. You could walk across the town faster than drive with all the J-walkers who get in the way, and it's not like he needs to go to Magresborg frequently. His bike takes him there fast enough when he does need to go. 

I glance over at my youngest brother, twelve year-old Ethan, who's currently sitting on the couch in the living room, playing games on his Xbox. 

"Why doesn't Ethan ever have to do anything?" I question. 

"He emptied the dishwasher today," my dad replies. "He did his share."

"That's, like, not at all the same amount of work, but fine."

"Thank you," he says, giving me firm eyes. 

I walk over into the kitchen where he's busy grabbing a glass of orange juice. 

"How was work?" I ask him. 

"Pretty good. The new guy, Mike, is great."

"Yeah, I met his son," I comment. 

"You did, eh?"

"His name is Ricky. He's really cool."

"I'm glad you're becoming friends with him."

"We're not really friends yet," I respond.

"Well, you should get there, because he's new here, and being new in a small town, it can be hard to make friends. It'd be great if you'd hang out with him, be his friend."

I really don't have a problem with that. "Yeah, sure."

"Good." My dad takes a gulp of his juice before setting the glass down and saying, "By the way, there's a message from Freya."

Oh, yeah. Freya's kinda my girlfriend. She is my girlfriend, not kinda. We've been dating for a bit over five months. The only reason I remember that is because she always makes plans for us to have a date every time another month of us being together passes. She's cool. She's really nice. My friends all say she's really hot too, and she's on the track team, so that's kinda neat. She's probably about as good a girlfriend as I could get. My parents love her too, and my brothers like her because she brings over cookies sometimes. She already knows what she wants to do in life. She's going to go to UBC after grade twelve to study oceanography, and she wants to own a house on an island with a dock on the ocean. I'm not that organized. I don't know what I want to do. I think I'll want to do drama, but everything past that is just too open-ended to tie shut right now. 

"Thanks for letting me know," I say. "I'll call her back."

I go over to the living room and grab the telephone from its holder on the table. The shouting from video game characters would probably get in the way of the call, so I take the phone down the hall to my bedroom. In there, I close the door and sit down on my bed. My room isn't anything special. It was painted grey when I was little, because my parents didn't like how white showed the dirty fingerprints that touched it. I have a school photo of myself on my bookshelf, but other than that, my room is pretty neutral. I've thought of putting stuff up, but I can never think of what. Some of my friends have posters of rock bands or athletes, especially the female ones, or movies they like. There are lots of things I could put up, but I never find the motivation to put up a picture for something I'll probably stop liking in a month anyway. 

I press the digits on the phone, and it rings for a few seconds before Freya picks up. 

"EJ?"

"Hey."

"Hi, what's up?" I can hear that she's smiling, which is cute to know, but it always makes me feel a little awkward, because I don't have that same response when I talk to her. Must be a girl thing.

"My dad said you called earlier."

"Yeah, um, there's a musical being shown in two weeks on the Wednesday in Magresborg. It's just, like, an amateur production of The Buddy Holly Story put on by some university students, and I am about to go get tickets if you want to go with me."

"That sounds awesome!" 

"So you'll come?"

"Of course I'll come!"

I'm a sucker for musicals. I've been doing musical theatre since I was little, and although Freya isn't really into that, she supports me doing it, and she comes to all my shows. I'm also a big rock and roll fan, so naturally I'm excited for this musical. I've only seen the film, but I've heard the musical is great. 

"Cool," she says. 

"Cool," I agree. "Is that all?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Okay, well, I'll talk to you another time. Bye."

"Oh, yeah, uh, bye."

I hang up the phone, excited about the musical I'm going to get to see. And for free, too! Sometimes having a girlfriend has perks, like when she pays for things like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I hope I introduced how awkward everything is for EJ well. The next chapter will hopefully be more interesting now that the basic introductions are done. I love you all, and have a lovely day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ricky's POV**

I think there might be some in Michigan. Or New York. Or maybe Oregon. Oregon sounds right. I don't know if that's right. There are none in Utah. But apparently they're everywhere in Canada. Even a small town like Stale has a Tim Hortons, and it's strategically located directly across the street from the police station. Somehow, it's busy in here. By busy I mean there are, like, ten people all sitting and chatting with coffee and food. Two of them are RCMP, evident by their uniforms. At the sight of them, I do a quick feel of my pockets out of instinct, although I don't know what I would be carrying that would be worrisome in the presence of Canadian authorities. I'm pretty sure, like, everything is legal here except guns. That might be an overstatement, though. I don't know much about Canadian law. 

I step up to the cash register and stare up at the menu while the lady across the counter waits patiently. After a minute, I see someone else start a line behind me in the reflection of the doughnut case glass, and I attempt to make up my mind, but I'm not really a coffee person. I only came here because this is the only chain restaurant in the town, and something about a location being franchised makes me feel better about ordering there. I know there would probably be a bunch of people who would get mad at me for not supporting local businesses, but all of the local businesses here have paint peeling from the exterior, so I'm here instead. 

"Um, do you have hot chocolate?" I ask. 

"Of course," the woman replies with a classic service smile. "White or regular?"

White or regular? Since when is hot chocolate complicated? "Uh...hot chocolate."

She smiles gently and nods, pressing the 'regular' button on the till. 

"What size?"

Oh, great. Another question. "I don't really care."

She punches in a small, opposite of what I assumed she would choose, but then again, I guess her paycheque isn't reliant on what size of hot chocolate I get. After I pay, I go wait for my drink to be ready, which doesn't take long, since there aren't exactly a lot of orders they need to fulfill. 

At the same moment as I pick up my drink, I spot someone I recognize entering into the building. EJ gives me a smile, and I nod in response. I end up waiting for him to finish ordering his own drink, since I have nowhere I need to be anyway. 

"What did you get?" he asks.

"Hot chocolate," I answer. 

"In summer?"

"It was the only thing I knew I liked."

"That's fair enough."

The lady comes over with a cup and holds it out over the counter for EJ to take, saying, "Double double."

EJ thanks her and takes a sip of his beverage as he turns back to me. 

"Double double?" I repeat. "What's that?"

"Coffee," he answers. "I can't wake up without it. I'm guessing, since you got a hot chocolate, that means you don't like coffee?"

"No. If I need energy, I go straight for the Red Bull."

"You sound like a fun person," he says with a laugh. 

"Hey, Red Bull gives you wings," I justify.

"Really? Is that why you skateboard around everywhere?" His eyes flick down to the skateboard in my hand.

"Hey, I have a car. It's just not here."

EJ nods and takes another gulp of his drink. "So what are you doing today?"

"Uh, thinking of what to do," I reply. 

"How about you let me show you around?" EJ offers. "I have a better mode of transportation. You know, a car."

"Damn. Skateboarders everywhere are offended," I respond, although I can't help but grin. "But sure."

My natural assumption that all boys in small towns drive trucks is immediately crushed when I see EJ's grey SUV. Most of the guys I know back home try to pick a car that's a bit cooler. The only ones who drive SUVs are the ones who either drive their moms' cars or are their friend groups' designated party drivers, meaning they're the ones who always end up driving the gangs around. However, EJ's car is surprisingly clean to be the party c— Never mind. All the garbage is in the backseat. 

"I'll put your skateboard and helmet in the trunk," he says as he takes them from me. 

After putting those away, he comes into the driver's seat beside me and gets buckled. He's a really good driver. I guess Big Red does drive uncomfortably slow, and my driving is chaotic at best, so my comparatives aren't amazing, but considering EJ's not speeding, I'd say he's a pretty good driver. 

"So what kind of car do you have?" EJ asks. 

"A 1992, orange VW beetle," I reply. 

"Orange? Is that your favorite colour?"

"No, but it was cheap from a used car dealership that I could skateboard to."

"Nice."

He takes a right at a set of lights, and I do have to admit it feels a little weird being in the passenger seat. Usually, when I'm in a car, I'm the one driving. That especially applies to when I'm in a car with friends. I'm always the one to drive Big Red when we hang out, because his car is actually his parents', so he only has access to it, like, once a week. And I always drive Nini, because she can't drive. Well, I used to drive her. That's weird to think about. I haven't really thought about her much since I got here. 

She broke up with me the day before I left. Or maybe I broke up with her? I don't actually know. All I know is that she told me she loved me, and I told her...well...nothing. It's not that I don't love her. I mean, I do, but am I in love with her? Sure, I care about her, and I like her, but to call it love feels like finding a paper airplane and calling it a U.S. fighter jet. It seems way too much, too big, and maybe that makes me a jerk or emotionally complicated. Really, I just feel confused, confused as to what love even means. Because I've been attracted to people. I was attracted to Nini. But love is a whole other thing, and I don't think I really understand its meaning yet. I mean, my own parents didn't say they loved each other when they were still together, which they're not anymore. I find myself questioning a lot of the time whether love really exists or if it's just some made up concept to give wedding planners more business. 

When EJ takes a left onto the highway, I return from my thoughts to ask, "Where are we going anyway?"

"I've got to get some groceries for my family."

"Didn't you say you were going to show me around?"

"I am," he insists. "What better place to start with than the grocery store."

I accept that with a grin. "Do you always get groceries for your family?"

"When they ask me to," EJ answers. "Once my other brother can drive, hopefully he'll do this sometimes too. And then my youngest brother just plays video games all day and hangs out with friends when he's not doing that."

"What are their names?"

"Peter who's sixteen, and Ethan who's twelve."

"Hey, I'm sixteen," I say. 

"Really? What grade?"

"Going into junior year."

"Grade eleven? He's going into grade ten. But he's also taking a bunch of summer classes right now."

"Did he not pass some classes?"

"The opposite," EJ replies. "He's doing AP courses now to get a head start. Yeah, he's pretty smart."

"Yeah, I'm definitely not like that," I say with an awkward chuckle. 

"Me neither," EJ responds with his own forced laugh. "I'm going into grade twelve, and I still haven't gotten above seventy percent on a class that wasn't P.E. or drama."

"You do drama?" I say, surprised. 

"Yeah. Been into it since I was a kid."

"Wow," I reply, glancing over at him curiously. "I figured you'd be more of the handsome jock type."

"I do play water polo."

"That sport where all the guys walk around in speedos?"

"Hey, you judge, but girls love guys who play water polo."

"Mmhmm, okay," I reply, and when he looks at me, I let out a playful laugh. 

Okay, I make fun of it, but I'm well-aware that girls don't mind watching the guys' water polo games, for obvious reasons. Even I found myself uncomfortably captivated by the players. I remember feeling really weird when I went home that night. I haven't gone to another water polo game since. I don't really want to look at a bunch of almost-naked guys again. Was too weird.

We reach Magresborg surprisingly fast, and when we get there, we don't even enter the town past the first street, because EJ turns right into a shopping area and parks in the lot in front of a giant green building called The Real Canadian Superstore. EJ gets out of the car, and I do the same, joining him on the pavement. 

"What is this place?" I ask.

"You've never been to a Superstore?" he reacts.

I shake my head. 

"Wow, you really are American."

He starts walking toward the doors, and I follow him, not sure whether I should be offended by his comment. We enter in, and right away, I hear Ashanti's "Foolish" playing from the speakers above. EJ pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket as he marches on toward the first isle. 

"This is literally just a normal super market," I comment. 

"Yes, but it has Canadian in the name, which makes it better," EJ responds, and then moves on. "So we're looking for cereal, milk, and bagels."

"Does your family only ever eat breakfast?" 

"Close," EJ answers with a chuckle. "Ethan eats breakfast foods whenever he's hungry 'cause that's all he knows how to make."

"Well, I always put too much milk in my cereal, so I commend him for being able to do that right."

EJ laughs as he glances over at me, and I feel a spark of pride for being able to make that happen. Then he grabs a box of Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs, followed by a box of Mini Wheats, and I automatically shake my head.

"What?" he says, noticing my disapproval. "You don't like my choice of cereals?"

"Well, no. I'm allergic to peanuts," I reply. "But also, you're missing the best cereal."

He grins at that, looking to the side before returning his eyes back to me. "And what cereal would that be?"

I smile smugly and step up to the shelf, picking up a box of my favorite cereal, and honestly the only cereal worthy of being a favorite.

"Cap'N Crunch," EJ reads. He looks at me with furrowed eyebrows. "Why is that the best cereal?"

I look down at the box then back up to him. "It has a picture of a captain. And he has a cool hat."

That makes EJ laugh again, and he puts the two boxes that he was holding back on the shelf before coming over to me and taking the box of Cap'N Crunch. 

"You won me over," he says. 

I beam in victory as I grab another box of the same cereal from the shelf then hand it to him. He accepts it with a grin that would be contagious if I weren't already smiling myself. 

"So," I say, continuing our walk down the isle, "milk?"

"Yes. I can't wait to hear from you which type of milk is the best," he teases. 

I look back for him, but he's currently in the midst of coming up beside me. Is it weird that I already feel like I could be really good friends with this guy? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a long time to write, but i'm really happy I got it finished for today. I hope you all liked it. I've got another chapter coming tomorrow which I'm looking forward too. Goodnight, lovelies!


	4. Chapter 4

**EJ's POV**

I never get distracted while driving. Even when my friends are loud and drunk in the backseat, or when Freya is doing her makeup in the mirror beside me while humming songs by girl group Dream. Yet for some reason, this curly-haired boy just sitting quietly in the passenger seat steals my eyes from the road a potentially dangerous number of times. I don't know what it is about him. I shouldn't be this drawn to him. I shouldn't be glancing over to catch a glimpse of his faint smile that hasn't left his face this whole drive, or his eyelashes that flutter when he blinks, or his nose. He has a cute nose. _Wait, no... What am I saying?_ Now he's looking at me. _Look away, EJ._ I snap my eyes straight ahead and focus on our next destination, which we're coming up on right now, having already dropped the groceries off at home.

Ricky's whole body straightens up as he gazes upon the giant rock the size of two houses that's just sitting here in the middle of the flat grass of the wide-spread valley. I'm used to this, because it's what the folks at Stale call a tourism site, which could be considered kind of sad, depending on how you look at it. I kill the engine in the tiny dirt lot that sits a long stretch of path away from the rock, and Ricky climbs out of the SUV, still staring at the stone. 

"What is this?" Ricky questions. 

"This is Not-Quite-As-Big Rock," I answer. "Well, that's not the official name, but that's what everyone calls it."

Ricky furrows his brows in puzzlement as he comes around the front of the car to where I am. "Why Not-Quite-As-Big?"

"Because Big Rock is in Alberta, and that's a very big rock. This one is…not quite as big."

"How did it get here?"

"Don't know. The sign probably used to say, but it's been coloured over by markers, and now you can't read it."

Ricky steps up to the slanted sign that should have a description of the monument. He nods when he sees what I'm talking about then spins around to me. 

"Yeah, that's unreadable," he confirms. 

I step past him, starting up the path toward the rock, and Ricky catches up behind me. 

"So how often do you come here?" Ricky wonders. 

"Oh, all the time. It's a great date spot."

He looks at me like I must be insane.

"I'm joking."

"Okay, good," Ricky responds. "I was worried that the people in Stale were just really that boring."

"I mean, the people are boring. Our closest tourist spot is a rock. This was where my mom used to take my brother and I when we were little on the weekends. But back then you used to be able to climb this."

"You can't anymore?"

"Well, now there's a fence around it."

Ricky sees what I'm talking about, the tiny wooden guard only as high as our knees. It's obviously not really trying to keep anyone out. It's more of a deterrent and a simple message saying that you're not supposed to go past it. Ricky's eyes float from the fence up to the top of the rock as we come to a stop in front of it. 

"Am I just seeing it weird, or does it look pink to you too?" he asks. 

"No, I see it too." 

Although grey from a distance, stripes of pastel pink streak through the layers of sediment, a distinguishing feature that I've always wondered about. Unfortunately, I can't read the sign to find out anything about it, so it will just be mysteriously pink to me until they replace that. 

"Hmm," Ricky responds. "So you and your brother just climbed this?"

"Yup. Thinking back, my mom probably shouldn't have let us do that."

Ricky scans the towering stone and agrees, "Yeah."

"We used to have picnics and play tag out here too, 'cause there's a lot of open land for running around."

Surrounding the stone is basically a huge span of emptiness, which made tag ideal here, because you could run until you reached a clump of forestry or a road. 

"I haven't played tag in years," Ricky says. "I don't have siblings, so I only played with friends in elementary school. I was pretty good, though. I was hardly ever it."

"Well, I don't think I was ever it," I reply. "I used to be a fast runner. I won all my jr. high track competitions, and I fully credit that to playing so much tag as a kid."

As grin surfaces on Ricky's face as he steps up a bit closer to me. 

"You've never been it?" he restates. I see where this is going, but I still don't have the time to react before he taps my arm and says, "There's a first for everything."

He stands with that proud grin for a second before I accept the game and reach out, at which point he bolts away. I chase after the laughing boy, but he was right. He is fast. The only reason I'm able to catch up with him is because he slows down whenever he looks back at me, which is frequently. But by the time I get close, he's reached a patch of trees in the land, and he ducks behind one. It feels like we're children, peaking around the trunk, him winding past me, just barely avoiding my hand when I reach for him. When he sneaks behind another spruce, we're both chuckling through tired breaths, our eyes linked like predator and prey, both contemplating our next move. 

"You can't run forever," I say.

"Actually, that's kind of the point of the game," he replies.

His bright, white teeth show as he smiles, and his hair is messy from being pulled by the needles of the tree branches around. I always thought having hair pushed out of place was supposed to make people less appealing, but his case is different. I actually think he looks better like this. There's something kind of cute about it. 

When he takes a step out from behind his cover, I nearly get him, but he jumps out of the way. I try again, and he leaps left, giggling at my failure. Finally, I manage to get him, snatching the boy around the waist from behind. We're both laughing as he spins around, and I'm about to let go, but the second our eyes meet, something stops me, and I stay like that, holding him, and he doesn't retreat. Our laughter snuffs out, turning into something less like rambunctious flames and more like coals, and the glowing orange tension takes over. What is this? I've never felt like this before. It's so uncomfortable in a comfortable way, if that makes sense. And my chest feels weak, like bubbles are dancing through it. 

Soon, I figure out how to work my limbs again and let him go, stepping back. He breaks the silence with a forced laugh.

"You were right," he says. "You are fast. But if I had my skateboard, you'd never catch me."

I feel my breathing easing back into normalcy, and I smile, trying to forget about whatever weird trick Father Time just played to make everything stop like that. That's never happened with any of my other friends before, or anyone before. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I was tired from running. But to be honest, I didn't exactly mind it. 

"Then I might just have to keep your skateboard so that you can't beat me," I reply.

"What if I need it?" he counters.

"You won't."

"What about when I need to get around places?" 

"If you need to go anywhere, I'll drive you."

It's a nice offer. My parents always told me to be nice and generous. This is just generosity. And I do like being around him, because we're friends. This is friendly. I don't know why I have to assure myself of that, because it's the truth. 

Ricky takes a second to think about my offer before replying, "Sounds like a deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I wanted to do a double update for this one, so here you go. I think I'll be working on Down next. Not entirely sure, but we'll see. Love you all! Bye!


	5. Chapter 5

**Ricky's POV**

My dad's car is parked in front of the house, and the light is on through the window. I can see clearly inside to the living room, because we haven't bought blinds or curtains yet. It's a little weird seeing it from outside, because from inside, it just feels like a private bubble of space, but it's actually a high-resolution motion picture for the neighbourhood to see, not that any of our neighbours would care to watch a geologist and his son sit and watch TV in the night. 

"It looks like my dad's home," I say. "I should go see what we're having for dinner."

EJ nods and locks the gear into park. I literally just said I should go, but I don't yet. I can unbuckle my seatbelt, but opening the door would be pushing my muscles past their limit. Since when can't I open a simple car door? I swear it wasn't that heavy when I got in. Getting in is apparently a lot easier than getting out. 

"Hey, uh, thanks," I say, "for showing me around and stuff."

"No problem," EJ replies. 

I take another second just looking at him before forcing myself out of the vehicle, but even after stepping down on the concrete, I can't shove the door shut. 

Instead, I spin back to EJ and ask, "Any chance you'd want to hang out again tomorrow?"

"Of course," he says with a grin. "I do still have your skateboard."

I smile, letting the door fall closed, and turn around to start up the path to my front door. I glance back as I hear the car engine sputter to life again, and EJ gives me a wave before pulling out onto the road. A cloud of red dust stains his trail, hanging in the air long after he's gone. 

As soon as I step into the house, I hear my dad calling from the kitchen, "There he is!"

The scent of sizzling tomato guides me through the living room toward the back of the house. There, I pull one of the stools at the peninsula out and sit with my elbows leaning on the counter, watching my dad stir a pot of red sauce. 

"What are you making?" I ask. 

"Spaghetti."

"Oh, yum. How as your day?"

"It was exciting. We studied some rock samples from Silverthrone Volcano."

"Cool."

"Yeah. What about you? Did you do anything fun?"

"Uh, yeah. Actually, I met this guy yesterday, EJ—"

"Oh, yes, I work with his dad. He mentioned you two were becoming friends."

"Yeah. We hung out, like, the whole day, and he showed me around, and he took me to this rock called Not-Quite-As-Big Rock, and he has a really good smile..." _Why did I include that?_

"That's great," my dad replies. "I'm glad you're making friends. See, I told you this summer would be good."

All of a sudden, the pot with the spaghetti in it begins to bubble over, and my dad rushes to clean it up. 

"Shit," he mutters. 

My dad's never been shy with swearing around me, and the same goes for me around him. It might ultimately have been the one thing that kept me sane when he was going through the divorce with my mom a few months ago, because he never made me censor my language. I was allowed to express whatever I needed to with him, so long as it wasn't completely disrespectful. So I'm not sure why I'm having such a hard time finding words to describe my current state of mind regarding the day I just had. 

"EJ's really cool," I say, even though my dad didn't ask. But that sentence doesn't seem to explain it fully. The problem is I don't know what I'm trying to explain. "I mean, I like him a lot."

"Well, I'll have to meet him someday," Dad responds. "I like to be kept in the loop about who you're friends with."

"Yeah, for sure."

I'm starting to wonder if my stomach has started some new yoga routine that I didn't know about, because I can feel it stretching and bending inside me, and I don't know why. I don't know why "cool" isn't good enough to describe what I think of EJ. I don't know why "I like him a lot" feels like ascending a roller coaster and getting off at the top of the drop. Those words should be enough. I shouldn't need more. But I do. 

________________________________________

**EJ's POV**

"Who's calling you? Is it your _girlfriend_?" Ethan snickers, but that stops quick when I give his shoulder a jab. "Ow!"

He refocuses on his Xbox game while I reach into my jacket pocket to check my cell phone. It's a NOKIA 6310I, a Christmas gift from my parents. Most of my friends don't even have cell phones. The only one who does happens to be the one calling me, even though I've told him to try calling my house first, because every minute costs money. 

"Chris, dude—"

"Yeah, yeah. Just come out."

_Come out? Like as in out of the closet? But I'm not gay. Why would they—?_

"Come outside, bro! I've got the engine running."

Oh. Outside. Yeah, that makes more sense. Of course. 

I get up from the couch where my brother continues to clack the joysticks on his controller and head for the door. He doesn't even notice me walk away. Right as I'm about to exit the house, a voice spins me around. 

"Where are you going?" Peter questions.

Don't get me wrong. I love my brother, but about fifty percent of the things he does just annoy me. For instance, his neon green glasses don't match anything he wears—ever. But they're so big and prominent that they barge into everyone's eyesight, demanding attention. My brothers and I all have poor vision, but I wear contacts, and so does Ethan. Peter, on the other hand, for some reason wanted to choose the most obnoxious pair of lenses he could find rather than something more modest. It's like he just wants to remind everyone all the time that he's smarter than them, because he fits the stereotype. 

"Out with friends."

"Is one of them Freya? Because you know mom doesn't like you being out with girls this late."

"Well, mom needs to chill. Now go learn about plants or whatever you're studying."

Peter just shakes his head in disapproval as I turn the doorknob and step out onto the porch. I see Chris in his Jeep, revving the engine and causing a cloud of exhaust to puff out from his vehicle. In the passenger's seat is Damion in his letterman jacket that he still wears all the time even though school is out. He rolls down the window and peaks out at me. 

"Yo, get in. We're going to Harley's."

"Who's all going?" I ask. 

"Just the group. We've got Larissa and Freya in the back, and we're meeting Jack and Ranger there."

"Cool. I'm in."

I swing open the backseat and squeeze in beside my girlfriend. She's the thinnest, so she always sits in the middle. After closing the door, I lean over and give her the kiss on the cheek that she expects when I see her. She smiles, and Chris starts up the car again, speeding down the town roads. 

"Hey, baby," Freya says. "What'd you do today?"

"Uh, I hung out with that new kid in town."

"Oh, yeah. The skater, right? I saw him riding around yesterday."

"That kid?" Larissa butts in. "He wiped out on my front yard and flattened a bunch of our flowers."

That makes me laugh a little. I know what I'm going to bug Ricky about tomorrow. 

"It's not funny," Larissa says. "Those flowers were new."

"Right, sorry," I respond, forcing my mouth shut. 

"Is he nice?" Freya asks. 

"Yeah. I mean, he's funny, and he'd never been to a Tim Hortons before today, and he started a game of tag randomly with me."

"That's cute," Freya responds with a little grin. 

"He is."

That earns me a look of confusion. 

"Uh, I mean, he's cool."

"Better be careful there, EJ," Chris shouts from the front. "You keep blabbing about boys like that, and people will think you're gay."

Freya gives him a slap on the shoulder, but Chris is prepared for it, so it doesn't affect his steering. 

"Shut up, Chris!" she huffs. "He's not gay. He's just not an asshole. You should try that sometime."

"Hmm. I prefer to be an asshole. Gets more chicks."

I can see his smirk in the rearview mirror, and Freya rolls her eyes, sinking back into her seat. 

"Anyway, EJ," she says, "I was thinking of going to see _Finding Nemo_ tomorrow if you wanted to come too."

"Sorry, I can't," I respond. "I already said I'd hang out with Ricky, the skater kid, tomorrow."

"Oh. Yeah, that's fine. Another time."

"For sure."

I'll have to write that down when I get home so that I don't forget it. I enjoy spending time with Freya. I mean, we were friends before we started dating, and she was already really cool, but sometimes it feels like the girlfriend thing came with a lot of obligations that I don't have the energy to keep. But I'm told it gets better, I guess, so I just smile and add _Finding Nemo_ to my mental to-do list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you liked this chapter. Tomorrow, I'll be updating Only Little. I love you all! Bye!


	6. Chapter 6

**Ricky POV**

I'm starting to get used to the scent of EJ's car. It's a vague musk disguised by the pale fragrance of a rainforest air freshener, making the dry mountains smell humid. EJ's in acgreyish-blue T-shirt and jeans, matching the muted tone of the sky, but his smile fills in the missing glow. Every once in a while, he glances at me while he drives, meeting my watching eyes. Being around him feels so easy, like I don't need to hide anything about myself, which is weird considering how introverted I usually am. 

"So where are we going?" I wonder. 

"It's a surprise," EJ replies. 

"You really like surprises, huh?" 

"Well, even if I told you, it's not like you'd the place."

"Fair enough."

"I brought snacks, though," he goes on. 

"What'd you bring?"

"Another surprise that you probably wouldn't know anyway."

I settle with the uncertainty, leaning back into my seat and gazing out at the trees as we pass them by. Sunlight breaks through the cracks in the branches, hitting the car like lasers, swiping over it in their white heat. Our destination appears as EJ parks the car at the side of a dirt road, and I car hear the sound of water trickling from somewhere in the forest surrounding us. EJ steps out first then comes to open my door for me. 

"What is this place?" I ask. 

"Just wait. You'll see."

He closes the door and leads me through the trees, out to a rocky cliff edge. It looks over a body of rippling water a few metres below, and across the space is the tiny waterfall from which the rushing sound is coming. The minerals in the stones glisten by my shoes, holding my attention so well that I don't even notice EJ pulling off his shirt and jeans until I look up and feel my whole body go dizzy like jelly taking over my limbs. He tosses his clothes aside before dashing up to the end of the stone and leaping off, creating a crater in the water where he lands. I'm laughing in shock as I step out to peer over the cliff at the boy swimming below. 

"Come on!" he shouts. "It's fun! Trust me!"

EJ's a little weird, but in a good way. He radiates this energy like you're always on the verge of something wild happening, but you never know what, and I'm not convinced he even knows what. I think he tends to make things up as he goes, and honestly, I kind of like it. It makes life interesting. 

I undo my belt and strip down to my boxer briefs, then I let my adrenaline build as I run up to rock's edge and take flight. I plummet through the surface, feeling the liquid sheathe my skin. When I shatter through the top again, I suck in a gulp of oxygen and let my body drift onto my back as the water splashes up on my limbs like a tide on a seashore. I push myself against the current, toward the waterfall. There, I slip my hand through the clear wall an touch the rocks behind it. Determining it's safe, I lean back and let the water pour over my head. EJ chuckles as I come back out, wiping my face dry. 

"I've never seen a waterfall before in person," I tell him. 

"Really? Well, this isn't much of a waterfall."

He wades closer to me, occupying the spot to my left by the water wall. 

"There's water, and it's falling," I state. 

"Can't argue with that."

He tilts his head up, bending back to feel the same cool drizzle as me, and my eyes drop from his face to the muscles in his chest, which are like ripples of their own. Wet, they gleam in the sunlight, disappearing when his shoulders bob under the surface. But now I'm looking at his arms which are strong from all his years of water polo. Finally, I manage to get my eyes back up to his face where they trace his chiselled jaw. He's one hell of a human, like the angels just wanted to see how attractive they could make a person, and he was the result. 

After a while in the water, we return to the rocks to put our clothing back on. EJ grabs the food he brought from the car, and the two of us sit facing each other beside the water, barefoot to prevent our socks and shoes from being soaked by the rest of our bodies. He opens up a cardboard box shaped like a pizza box, but inside isn't pizza. There are two pastries, both flat and covered in golden brown drizzle and a white cream. 

"What are these?" I ask. 

"The most Canadian thing you could think of," he replies. "BeaverTails."

"They look really messy."

"They are. That's why I have a ton of napkins."

I laugh, and he picks up one of the treats. I take the other and bite into it. It's incredibly sweet, flavoured like maple, and I feel like I must be eating the equivalent of ten sugar cubes in one bite. 

"Do you like it?" EJ asks. 

"Yeah." I finish swallowing the bite I'm working on then take another, and once I'm done that, I question, "So how did you find this place?"

"I was looking for somewhere to be alone one day."

"That place is usually my bedroom for me," I say. "I have a whole setup with a beanbag chair, a tiny TV and a stash of snacks so that I never have to leave."

EJ smiles at that and looks down at his feet. "I wish. My family seems to think my room is a community centre. People come barging in and out whenever they feel like it."

"At least you always have someone to talk to," I reason. "I only have my dad. My mom moved away long before she and he even got divorced."

"I guess. But sometimes I need space, you know? Sometimes I just feel like—like they're all living in a completely different world than me. Like, they're all on the same page, all feeling the same things, and I just...feel different."

That strikes too true. It's actually a bit scary how much I understand that, how much I understand him. 

"Yeah," I mutter. "I get that. I only really have one friend at home, and we've been best friends since elementary school, but even sometimes with him, I just feel like an outsider. Like I'm supposed to be more like everyone else, but I'm not."

"Like you were made the wrong way."

We both raise our eyes simultaneously, and at that moment, I feel a connection latch between us, preventing either of us from looking away. The wind falls deeper, painting the water's edge in a low radiance, which I feel vibrating in my chest and through the veins in my palms. And my eyes carefully wander down to his lips, and suddenly everything makes sense. Everything, from the way I feel different to the reason I can't watch the boys' water polo team, to the reason this boy's emerald eyes lock me motionless. 

The connection severs the instant he drops his head downward, studying his half-eaten BeaverTail in his hands, and gravity washes over me reminding me that I'm just a boy sitting with another boy on a rock, and we aren't invincible against the forces of nature. But for a moment, it really felt like we were. 

That night, when my dad goes off to his room, I sit down at the computer in the living room and open up the internet browser. _'Can boys like boys and girls?'_ The first results I get are all opinion forums, many of them arguing that there are men giving women AIDS after having previous relations with other men. Some are just general pages on homosexuality. But finally, I find one article that answers my question with a word I've never heard of before. _'Bisexual'._ That seems to fit. I'm bisexual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I really hope you all liked this chapter. I really enjoyed it. Anyway, stuff is about to happen more soon, so get ready. I love you all and appreciate you for reading and just existing. Have a lovely day!


	7. Chapter 7

**EJ's POV**

Ricky and I have hung out a lot since the time at the waterfall. It's almost everyday now, and on those days when I can't see him in person because I have other plans I have to follow through with, we agree to spend extra long together the next day. My other friends have started to ask if he's replacing them, to which I always reply no. He's not replacing them at all. It'd be pretty hard to replace people who shotgun literally anything in a can, know more pickup lines than I know words, and will do anything you dare them to if you add the phrase "no balls." Ricky is more like adding an extension to my home, and I just happen to like spending more time there than anywhere else. 

I'm in the middle of reading a graphic novel when Ethan peeks his head into my room, holding the phone out. 

"It's for you," he says. 

I let out a sigh as I close my book. I was getting to a really good part. Couldn't Freya have waited, like, ten more minutes before calling me?

"It's some kid named Picky," he adds.

"Ricky?"

My annoyance wipes away as I jump to my feet and run over to swipe the phone from him. As soon as I put the phone up to my ear, I motion for Ethan to get lost and drop back down on my bed while beginning to talk. 

"Ricky?"

"Hey, EJ," comes his soft voice. 

"Hey, what's up?"

"I just rewatched the whole first season of Family Guy on DVD, and I just wanted to make sure life existed outside my television."

He chuckles into the phone, and I would laugh too, but then I'd overpower his laugh, and I want to hear his laugh. 

"That's a good show," I say, "but have you seen Survivor?"

"No."

"My parents always watch it, and I started watching with them. We have a schedule by the TV stating who gets to use it when, which was made specifically so that my brothers and I wouldn't be in the way when that show was on."

"I'll need to watch it sometime."

"Yeah. I'll let you know the next time it's on, but until then, what are you doing tomorrow?" 

"Hanging out with you?" he suggests.

I smile. "Great idea. I'll pick you up."

"I'll pay for gas."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but you drive me everywhere, and I know that if it were me driving you, I'd want you to pay for gas sometimes."

"Okay," I accept. "You can pay."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

I listen to the humming in the background of the line, wishing to delay the hanging up. For a few seconds, we both remain connected, just taking in the sounds of each other's breath. I'm waiting for him to hang up, but it seems like he might be waiting for me to hang up, so neither of us hang up. That is, until I get another call beeping through. It's Freya. I cut off the line with Ricky and switch to her, feeling disappointed that she had to interrupt. 

"Hey," I say. 

"Hey. I just wanted to let you know what time the musical starts tomorrow, because we don't want to be late."

I take in a silent gasp, realizing my mistake, while Freya gabs on about her plan. I double-booked myself. The right thing to do would obviously be to cancel with Ricky and go to the show with Freya tomorrow. But then Ricky would be upset, and I hate it when he's down. I think the only way to analyze this situation is to consider the stakes. If I cancel with Ricky, I'll make him sad, and I won't be able to see him for a whole day. But if I cancel with Freya, I'll be a total selfish jerk who let her down. But if I go with Freya, I won't be able to focus on her anyway, so that would make it more noble to tell her now so that she isn't disappointed tomorrow. So really, the right choice is clear.

I cut her off in the middle of her sentence, saying, "I actually can't go tomorrow."

"What? Why not?"

What's a good reason that sounds legit? 

"Um, Ethan just got his appendix removed, so I have to stay with him tomorrow to make sure he's okay."

"Oh my God. I hope he feels better."

"I'm sure he will be," I say, trying to make my tone sound believable. Thanks for understanding."

"Don't worry about it. Family comes first."

I feel a little guilty as I smile and say my goodbye, but even with that churning below me, my overall excitement about seeing Ricky again tomorrow overpowers the guilt. Once I've ended the call, I notice my youngest brother return to my doorway, leaning his shoulder on it as he stares at me in bewilderment. 

"Did you just cancel plans with your girlfriend so that you could hang out with Hickey?"

"Get out!" I order. 

He ignores me, pressing, "Do you even like Freya?"

"Ethan, go away."

He complies with a loud sigh, leaving me with his question. Do I like Freya? Sure, I like her, but not really more than I like any of my friends—except Ricky. I like him more. Is that even possible? Shouldn't I like my girlfriend most? 

________________________________________

Ricky and I trudge through the field which spans across a few acres. A worn out barn sits in the middle, boards fallen and rotted due to the long time it's been abandoned. There used to be a fence separating it from the roadway it touches and the other fields framing it, but since no one's here to upkeep it anymore, the wires have been pulled out, and the space has been claimed by the wanderers who make it this far out of Stale. Canola still grows here, although not as full as it did in the past I'm sure. It taints patches of the ground in bright yellow glory that dusts our legs as we walk. Yes, I could be watching a musical with Freya right now, but every time my hand accidentally brushes Ricky's, the guilt gets farther and farther away.

"So why would someone just leave their canola field?" Ricky wonders. 

"I don't know. Maybe they won the lottery and went to buy a yacht."

"That's a very optimistic answer," Ricky replies with a laugh. 

"I try to look on the bright side of things," I agree. 

"Is that why you took me to a field of bright, neon yellow flowers? What is canola even used for?"

"Uh, canola oil," I answer slowly. 

"Oh, yeah. I forgot that was a thing."

I chuckle as I look around at the yellow. When I return my eyes to my left, Ricky's now down on the grass, lying with his hands under his head as a pillow. 

"What are you doing?" I ask. 

"So you can jump off cliffs with no questions, and I can't even lie down?"

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. After a moment of watching him, I lower down too, placing my head right next to his, and letting the yellow and green surrounding me tunnel my vision so that all I can see are the clouds and blue sky above. Ricky's eyes flutter open again, and he stares up at the same blue dome. There are freckles on his nose that you can only see in the sunlight from up close. I've never noticed them before, but seeing them now feels like I'm seeing a whole new person, like looking at someone out of a renaissance painting, someone ethereal, so perfect that he must be of the imagination. Like the tip of a wave, curling over and crashing down on itself, my mouth gets ahead of my brain, and my voice comes rolling out before I can do anything to stop it. 

"I like looking at you," I whisper.

It feels like standing on a bridge over lava, my heart racing, and my body overheating. Slowly, his head tilts, and his eyes fall to mine. It's not sudden or rash. It's gradual and cautious. His face settles on its side, and our gazes study each other like reading a book—or a sign. We don't want to trespass by proceeding without thinking. How I know it's okay is difficult to describe. There's just this feeling, this mutual tension that pulls us together. My nose grazes his, then we both shift again, bringing our chins together, and finally our lips connect. Like an earthquake, I feel gravity lose its balance and rattle under the pressure of the moment. A tender warmth fills me from my core out, branching through my veins and puncturing all my walls. Us finally drifting apart is as slow and careful as the approach, and we both turn our eyes back up to the sky, silent. 

After a moment, Ricky finally speaks. "That was…"

"Weird," I finish for him. 

His words disappear after that, and he keeps his sight upward. Another second of nothing passes.

Then I break the cloud of stillness, pushing myself up and colliding my lips down with his again, feeling the electricity ripple through my veins a second time, pulsing with each heartbeat. His hands raise to feel my arms, drawing up them until he finds my back of my jawline and holds me there. Now we're two boys making out in a field, disguised by the yellow flowers, doing something that only boys and girls do together, something that I'm supposed to want to do with my girlfriend. But I don't want Freya, not like I want Ricky. So every time one kiss ends, I come back to him for another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm squealing, and I hope you guys liked this part! I'm going to work on Only Little tomorrow, so I leave you all with this for a bit. I love you very much. Have a lovely day, lovelies!


	8. Chapter 8

**EJ's POV**

Everything's different when I bring Ricky into my house for the first time. He's never been here, but I guess that only fits. We're both in completely new places, him in my house, and me in, well, these feelings. The drive here was interesting. It was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was was quiet, but we were still communicating. And thinking. Lots of thinking. Stealing glances to better remember the delicate lines of his face. Bathing in the serenity of the air-conditioned car while the trees whirled past us. 

As soon as I let him into my home, Peter looks up from his book in the living room and gives Ricky a once over. 

"Hello," he says. 

"Peter, this is Ricky," I say. 

Ricky waves nervously. "Hey."

"How do you do?" my brother replies. 

Thumping from the hallway echoes out as my mom enters the room. Her eyes meet Ricky instantly, and a friendly smile appears on her face 

"Oh, hello! I didn't realize EJ had a friend over."

"We just got here," I tell her. 

"I'm Ricky," he introduces himself. 

"It's nice to meet you," my mom says. "I'm Bev."

My guest and my mom shakes hands, and then my mom turns to me. 

"EJ, by the way, Freya called earlier."

I think a part of my mind tried to block out Freya's existence, so the reminder is a punch to my chest. Ricky's eyes look to me, oblivious to the situation, and I just want to get him away from here before my mom says anything more about her. 

"Thanks, Mom."

I reach for Ricky's hand are start pulling him forward, but I drop it almost immediately after, opting to simply motion for him to follow me instead. Once in my room, I close the door, and Ricky stands in the centre of the room, looking at me in confusion. And then he asks the question I wanted to avoid. 

"Who's Freya?" 

"Um…" I try to think of a less controversial answer than the blatant truth, since I'm trying to explain her to the boy I just kissed, but I can't think of anything. "She's my girlfriend," I confess. 

I can see the exact second when the pain of that sentence stabs into his core, and he stares at me in distaste. His disappointment scrapes at my spine, making my want to cower away in a corner. I've never been in a situation like this before. I mean, I've definitely done things I regret like this, but I never cared so much about the possible repercussions. I've never had so much to lose. Yet I just got it, him. Within a few hours, I went from not caring about much to never wanting to hold on to anything more in my entire life. I don't want my first kiss with Ricky to be my last. 

"Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" he questions. 

"Because I—" I let out a breath. "I guess it slipped my mind."

"You just forgot about your girlfriend?" he says skeptically. 

"Well, I don't like her, not the way I like you. I even cancelled my plans with her today to hang out with you."

That doesn't seem to help. If anything, he looks more conflicted. 

"You know we can't be a thing if you're with her."

"Why not?"

"Because I actually like you," he argues, "and I can't be around you if I'm wondering whether you actually like me."

"Ricky, I do like you."

When I try to step forward, he pulls away, shaking his head. 

"I'm going to break up with her," I tell him. 

"Cool, well, until you do that, I probably shouldn't be here."

He starts toward the door, and I say, "Ricky."

Ignoring me, he carries on, shutting me alone in my room to think about the mess I caused. I guess I have to do it. I have to break up with Freya. What will she say? Will she be mad? Will she still want to be my friend? For a second, I plan to just go grab the phone now, but then I realize that breaking up with her over the phone might be even more problematic, so instead, I take out my car keys and head for the door. 

_______________________________________

When I get up to her door, I don't knock right away, debating whether or not this is the best time to do this. After a few minutes of just standing on her porch, the door opens, and my decision is made for me. Freya's mother answers. She must've seen me through the window. 

"Hi, Mrs. Pashia. Um, is Freya there?"

"Yes, um…" she trails off as she looks behind her, turning her focus to someone else in the room. "I'm not going to lie," she hisses. "Come talk to him."

She looks back at me with a smile, and a second later, Freya takes her spot, her arms crossed and face upset. I knew I would be seeing this face soon, but I didn't expect it to be before I even said anything. 

"What?" she says. 

The thought of breaking up with her right now gives me a gross feeling in my stomach, so I start making small talk, hoping that will ease my conscience a bit. 

"How was the musical?"

"I didn't go," she replies coldly. 

"Oh. Why not?" 

"Because," she snaps, "I got those tickets for you and me to go together. I don't care about musicals, so I gave them to some of your dork theatre friends."

"Oh."

"And you want to know what I did instead?"

Not really, but I assume she's going to tell me. 

"I stayed at home and helped my parents with chores, and one of them was going to get the mail, and guess who I saw there."

"Santa?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood, but it only makes her angrier. 

"I saw your brother. You know, the one who had his appendix removed."

 _Crap._ I let out an uncomfortable laugh while she glares at me. 

"Yeah, he really bounced back fast," I lie. 

She shakes her head, releasing staccato breath of disbelief. 

"EJ, why did you lie to me?" she questions. "Did you just not want to go?"

"I don't know," I reply. "Okay, I do know, but I—I—"

"Just spit it out."

"I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore."

Her eyebrows go up, and she takes a step back. 

"Wow, okay," she mumbles. 

"You said to spit it out!"

"Yeah! Spit it out, not fucking hurl it!"

She's so mad at me right now, and I can't blame her. But I wish she would see how hard this is for me too. I don't want us to fight. I just don't know how to avoid it. 

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Nothing," she responds. "You can't make this better."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, you did," she states, her eyes going down to the ground. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave."

I wait for a moment until she pushes again, saying, "EJ."

"Okay," I respond. 

I turn away, walking down off the porch and heading toward my car. As soon as I get in, I let out a breath, and then something different happens. I smile. Yes, I screwed up, and I feel horrible about that, but part of me is relieved to not have to pretend anymore, to not have to act like I'm this person I'm not. 

I twist the key in the ignition and turn the car out into the road to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I really liked this chapter. Sorry about the hardcore Gini vibes of this. I realized that after I finished it, but I tried to make it different, and the rest definitely won't be the same at all. I love you all a lot. Thank you for reading! Bye!


	9. Chapter 9

**Ricky's POV**

I haven't spoken to EJ since I left yesterday, and I know it hasn't even been 24 hours, but being unsure for that long is exhausting. I definitely felt like we had a connection, and obviously he did too, because he kissed me, but he has a girlfriend. Being with a boy may be looked down on, but at least it's not mean. If I had known there was someone else involved in this who thing, I wouldn't have kissed him, because cheating sucks. I've been there before. Not with Nini, but with my girlfriend before her. She was seeing another guy behind my back, and she lied about it for weeks. I don't want to contribute to that mess with EJ and his girlfriend. 

I shove another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. Cornflakes. That's all we have left, because I've finished the Cap'N Crunch, and we haven't gone to buy more yet. My dad enters the kitchen with a smile and grabs the apple juice from the fridge. While he pours his cup, he observes the frown on my face. 

"Everything okay?" he asks. 

"Yeah, fine. Just…had trouble staying asleep." _Not a full lie._

"Rain woke you up too?"

I could hear the drops pummelling my window the whole night, but honestly, they were kind of a nice distraction from the thing that actually kept me up. 

"Yeah."

My dad nods and takes a sip of his juice. 

"Hey, after breakfast," he says, "would you be able to check the mail? I realized we haven't checked it since we got here."

"Dad, it's been weeks."

"Which is why I need you to check it."

I let out a breath. "Sure. I'll do that once I'm done."

"Great. Thank you," he says with a smile. 

After breakfast, I make my way toward the mailbox. There's only one collection of mailboxes for the whole town, and they all sit beside the post office, stacked in a vertical grid. Many people have chosen to paint theirs, resulting in a panel of artwork. Most of the designs are nature-related, like deer, flowers, or water. My mailbox has a picture too. The person we leased the house from must be a creative person. Either that or they have enough money to hire a creative person. It depicts rain sprinkling a puddle, looking similar to what last night must've been like. The ground is still wet from that. In the road are deep streams of water settled into the dips in the red dirt. I wore my black shoes, but even those are turning red from the mud. The smell of the air is nice, though. It has that fresh scent of recent rain throughout the whole town. 

As I turn the key in my mailbox, I notice a body emerge beside me, opening his own mailbox. I recognize him, but I'm not ready to talk to him yet. I know that if I do, I won't be able to keep myself from giving in to the desire that I have to be with him. So I focus on the humungous stack of letters and yank those out of the compartment. When I get a good grasp on them all in my arm, the shadow of the boy beside me starts to move, and I glance over at EJ writing something down on a piece of paper. After it's finished, he reaches in front of me and puts it in my mailbox. Too curious to leave it, I pick up the paper and unfold it with my free hand to read a note that he's written. 

_I broke up with Freya._

After taking a second to let that work through my brain, I place the page on top of my stack of letters and reach for the pen in my jean jacket pocket. Then I start to write my own message. 

_So what now?_

I fold the page closed and return it to EJ's open mailbox, and he retrieves it right away, a smile forming on his face. He flicks his eyes back to me before writing again and passing my letter back to my mailbox. 

_Can I pick you up later?_

I feel the butterflies inside me start to whirl again. He genuinely likes me, and I'm not just some side fling. He wants me, and that feels so good to know. 

"Sure," I answer.

________________________________________

When I step outside after he rings the doorbell, an obvious truth suddenly hits me. Our eyes lock, and I feel the tension of the rope tugging my into him, but the blades of the sharp neighbours' eyes slice into that rope with every drive-by glance that we get. Being with him isn't going to be as simple as it was with Nini or any other girl. This is going to be more like a constant game of hide and seek, but we're hiding, and praying not to be found by anyone who won't let us continue playing our game. Someday I might be more comfortable being seen, but right now, I have too much fear. Maybe that makes me a bad person, because I don't want anyone to know about my relationship with EJ. Maybe I do have some lingering prejudice against even myself. But I'm just scared. I would be fine telling Big Red, but he's not here, and the only other person I can talk to is my dad, but I don't know what he would say. 

Rather than do anything to satisfy the desire to pull him close, I step up beside him and follow him down the pathway toward the car. Once inside and buckled, I look over at him as he shifts the gear into drive. 

"Does this scare you?" I ask him.

I don't usually like to talk about things this deep or emotional, but I really can't help but be curious. At my question, EJ takes a minute to ponder his answer, and I can see the conflict in his face as he does. 

"Yeah," he admits. "I'm sorry."

"No. I get it," I respond. "I'm pretty scared too. I've never…" I try to string the right words together. "…felt anything like this before. I mean, I have, but not for…you know."

"Yeah," he mutters. "This is completely new for me. Before yesterday, I never even considered that I could be…"

He trails off, clearly reluctant to say the next part. 

"Gay?" I finish for him. 

He looks my way to nod before returning his eyes to the road. 

"Like, I'm friends with guys who make fun of gay kids, and now I am one," he says. "My friends have teased me before too. Not in a mean way. Just as jokes. Because I'm in theatre, and they kinda think that's a gay thing for a dude to like."

"That's a stereotype," I state. 

"Well, it's true for me," EJ replies, "so maybe it has some merit."

I can't exactly argue that. I don't know anyone in theatre really, except Nini. 

"What about your parents?" I ask. 

"That, I don't know," EJ breathes. "My dad has always pushes me and my brothers to act like men and like boy things. He wouldn't even let my brother choose a pink stuffed animal when he was younger. I don't know how he'd feel about me being gay."

"Well, you do like boy things," I say. "I'd say liking a boy is like the advanced level of liking boy things."

That makes EJ laugh. 

"I hope he sees it that way," he says. 

Then we approach a fork in the road, the turn to go either out of town or stay in it.

"Where do you want to go?" he asks.

"Somewhere we don't have to hide," I reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I hope you liked this part. Things are going to start getting a bit more interesting as the coming out stuff approaches. Thank you for reading. I love you all.


	10. Chapter 10

**EJ's POV**   
  
  


My brothers lines up to fill their plates with the dinner that my dad prepared, while my mom is already at the table, reading a book of poetry as the rest of her family comes over to join. After I sit down between my brothers, the only one left standing is my dad, who is absorbed by the television in the living room.

"John, honey," my mom calls, "can you come join us at the dinner table?"

"Yeah," Dad huffs and shuts off the TV. "I was just watching the news, and get this: it's legal for the gays to marry now." He lets out a chuckle as he comes to sit down with his food. "Pretty soon it'll be legal to marry a horse."

My mom flicks her eyes up at him, keeping her stone face, and he puts up his hands in innocence.

"I'm kidding," he says.

I keep my head down, staring at my food as I eat it. He's being serious? They're actually letting gay people get married now, and I had no idea until my dad blurted it out along with a casually homophobic joke. Today, July 8th, 2003, gay people are allowed to be married in British Columbia. I knew there was talk of that bill, but I honestly never thought it would happen. If my dad hadn't been the one to deliver the news, I would probably be smiling right now, but I keep myself from doing so. I don't want them to question why I'm so cheery. Being gay may be fine with the province now, but it's still a taboo topic in my family. The way my dad talks about it is like putting icing on a burnt cake. He has a lot of opinions that he tries to hide through meager jokes and words that he takes back a second later.

"I just hope none of my friends are planning on having a wedding within the next month," my dad continues, "because the gays will have booked all the spots."

"Let's hope your friends don't book their weddings with such short notice," my mother mutters.

"It's a joke," my dad presses. "Sheesh. None of you are gay, so I didn't think I had to watch my mouth."

He shoves a forkful of carrots into his mouth, which I'm glad about, because it prohibits him from being able to talk further. Unfortunately, it appears the conversation is still going, being carried now by Peter.

"You know, Ontario already legalized gay marriage last month," he explains.

"And they also drink bagged milk," my dad quips.

I hurry to finish my food as fast as I can, and my parents are both impressed with my speed, but I am capable of doing anything fast when I want to leave quicker. They watch as I put my utensils on my plate and stand up from the table.

"I'm gonna go out to Ricky's—I mean head out to Ricky's."

"Are you sure you don't want seconds?" my mom asks. "You finished that pretty quick."

"No, thanks," I respond, putting on a smile. "I'm good."

I put my dishes in the dishwasher then go to the door to slide on my shoes, giving my family a wave before hurrying out of the house.

________________________________________

**Ricky's POV**   
  
  


EJ and I cuddle together on the couch, his arms weaved through mine, and his head laying on my chest. My dad is working late, which is the only reason we're able to do this here. Usually, cuddling is only something we take part in when we're out in the middle of nowhere with no one around, but, with the moonlight blue in the sky shining in through my living room window, the security of this peaceful couch lets us drop our constant caution for once. We're folded together like origami, settled deep in a mist of tranquility. After having to watch myself all the time, I like being able to just be with EJ and watch _Survivor_ alone. EJ readjusts his grip in my hand, causing my limb to fill with a fuzziness like rain on my skin.

"So," I say over the voices of the TV, "why did you leave dinner early to come here?"

"Uh, well, my dad was watching the news, and um..." He pauses for a moment. "B.C. legalized same-sex marriage."

I didn't even know about that, and can't really believe it. The U.S. is so far away from doing anything like that. To think that the province I'm in right now has done that is unreal. I know I don't live here, and the summer will end eventually, and then I'll have to go back home, but I want to imagine for a second that, in five or so years, if I wanted to, I would be able to marry the boy I'm with. I don't know if that will be EJ, but I do like him a lot, and it's crazy to think that I could have the same life with him as with a girl.

"Really?" I respond, too speechless to say anything else.

"Yeah," EJ breathes. "I had to get out of my house so that I could be happy in my car." He turns his eyes up to me and says, "I also wanted to do this."

His lips kiss mine, blooming like a morning glory. But our kiss is different than all the other times. This time, there's no fear lining our minds. It's just open, free passion growing wild wherever it wants to be, not staying inside the boundaries of a garden, but taking over the forest.

All of a sudden, headlights flash through the window, and I remember that, although we can only see our reflections in the glass, we are on display. I slide away from EJ and look out to try to see who's parked, praying for it to be just a pizza delivery guy—although we didn't order pizza. But of course, then the door rattles open, in comes my dad, staring at me and my boyfriend in shock.

"Dad, I..."

He stays there, trying to piece together what he was just seeing, while I'm paralyzed on the couch, and EJ is avoiding my father's eyes.

After a second, EJ whispers to me, "I'm gonna go."

But right as he stands up, my dad says, "No. You don't have to."

Dad runs his hands through his hair at he continues to process the moment, his forehead wrinkled in stress. EJ sits back down, keeping his distance from me.

"Uh..." Dad starts. "I don't—I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," I respond. "We can just pretend nothing happened."

"What?" He looks hurt by the suggestion. "Ricky, I—I love you. I'm your dad no matter what. I'm just a little surprised."

I sit in silence, feeling like a germ under a microscope, unable to escape the spotlight.

"Can I just ask you something?" Dad continues. "And EJ, I don't want you to take offence to this. What about Nini? Did you never like her?"

"No, I did," I reply. "I'm not gay. I'm... I'm bisexual."

"Oh. That's something new."

I wait while that soaks in, until he speaks again, now coming over to sit down in the chair near us.

"Ricky," he says, "I want you to know that I accept you and support you with whoever you decide to date. And you too, EJ. I don't know what life at home is like for you, but you're always welcome here."

EJ and I both look to each other for a second. I think this is probably about the best reaction I could've asked my dad to have. I guess I can stop shaking now.

"Thanks, Dad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sorry this took an extra day. I wasn't feeling well emotionally yesterday, so I needed some time. Every once in a while I get really insecure and need to rebuild myself, and I'm doing better now. Most likely. I wrote this author's note yesterday, so I don't know, but I probably am. I love you guys. Thanks.


	11. Chapter 11

**EJ's POV**

Birds chirp all around, landing down in puddles to splash before lifting off again. The mountains create a hazy line between where the sun hits and where the shadow shades. It's cool out this morning, but Ricky insisted that he wouldn't need a coat, so he shivers beside me as we walk down the sidewalks of Stale. 

"Are you cold?" I ask. 

"If that would be admitting defeat, then no," Ricky replies. "I am not cold."

He's obviously cold. I can see the goosebumps on his arms, and he has them held tight to his body, attempting to absorb that warmth. While he walks, I start taking off my letterman jacket, and Ricky looks at me with a smile when I throw it over his shoulders. 

"Thanks," he says. 

Now I'm cold, but that's better than him being cold, and honestly the cute smile on his face makes it worth it. 

But when I look ahead again, my eyes go to the Jeep rolling down the opposite side of the street. I try to look away, but they've already seen me, and the car pulls up across the centre of the road, against the cement by me and Ricky. Ricky doesn't know them, so he turns, perplexed by the person rolling down their window to look out at us, but I just step around him, trying to think of a story for why he's wearing my jacket. 

"'Sup, EJ," Chris says, resting his elbow on the door. 

In the passenger seat, Damion gives me a nod. They know about Ricky. Well, they know he's my friend. They also know that, for the past month, I've been spending a lot less time with them, and they know that I broke up with Freya a while back. So I don't want them piecing the parts together. Anxious to just get them away, I put on a bright smile and try to act casual. 

"Not much," I respond. "What's up with you?"

Rather than answer, he looks at Ricky, saying, "Hey, it's the skater kid. But I haven't seen him with his skateboard in a while."

"Uh, yeah, he's been walking," I say. 

"Yo, you should bring him to hang out with us," Damion speaks up. 

"Dude, you should," Chris agrees. "Harley's having another party tonight. Bring Skater Boy, and he can meet the homies."

My initial reaction is no, but Chris keeps pushing. 

"Come on. The guys are starting to wonder if you've died or something because of how little you see them anymore."

I would be fine to go on my own, but bringing Ricky just seems a little risky. I bet Freya will be there, and I haven't even spoken to her since we broke up. But then Chris looks at Ricky and asks him directly. 

"You should come tonight."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Ricky responds.

He looks at me, and when he sees my worried eyes, his fall under a similar fog. Unfortunately, it's too late to back out, because Chris starts his car again, shouting to us as he takes off again. 

"Cool! See you later!"

When he turns the corner at the end of the block, Ricky steps over to me with a puzzled expression. 

"What?" he asks. 

"I just didn't think you'd want to go. All my friends will be there, and we can't—I mean I'm not—they don't know that we're dating or even that I'm gay."

"Well, we don't have to tell them," Ricky responds. "We'll just be friends. Besides, it'd be chill to meet some more people here."

I suppose he's right. There's no reason why we can't just pretend to be friends for the night. It can't be that hard anyway. 

________________________________________

**Ricky's POV**

Harley, apparently, lives in Magresborg, which meant a five-minute drive down the highway plus a few more minutes to find the house. I'm nervous as we step up to the porch. These are EJ's friends, and I don't want to mess up in front of them. When EJ's about to ring the doorbell, I stop him.

"EJ," I say, "I'm not a big people person, so I'm sorry in advance if I embarrass you."

"You won't," he assures me. "If anything, I'll embarrass you."

He presses the button, and a moment later, a boy with spiky, dark hair and a jean vest answers the door. With a wide smile, he looks at the two of us. 

"Hey, EJ and..."

"Ricky," I finish for him. 

"Right, right. I'm Harley," the boy says. "Everyone's inside, so come on."

He steps aside, letting us go inside, but he leaves to go talk to some friends pretty much immediately after that. It's not as busy as I imagined it would be, maybe that's just 'cause I don't go to parties, like, ever. This isn't one of the ragers I've heard about. Rather, it's about fourty-ish people all just chilling and talking, although I don't think the cans and bottles they're holding are just juice. The two from the car that I saw this morning stand up from a couch when they spot me and EJ, but the others, including a group of girls by the window, look over at me in judgement. They have no idea who I am, so that makes sense. 

"Hey, you guys made it!" Chris says. "We're trying to get Mason to chug a bottle of mayonnaise over here if you wanna watch."

I look over by the couch where two boys are chanting while they sit on either side of the third boy with the mayonnaise. Seems disgusting but also kind of entertaining. 

"Yeah, I'm in," I respond. 

I begin following EJ's friends toward the scene, but I pause when I notice EJ looking at one of the girls by the window. She has black hair down to her shoulders and a royal blue tank top with low-rise jeans, and EJ seems fixated on her. For a second, I feel jealous, before I remember he's gay. I think it's just an automatic response to assume he could be into her.

"You coming?" I ask him. 

"Yeah, but, um..." He hesitates a second. "I need to talk to someone first."

I glance back at the girl, saying, "Oh, yeah. No worries."

"Thanks," he responds before going toward her. 

**EJ's POV**

Freya meets me halfway, and I suddenly question what I'm even doing. I don't know what to say or do. It's been too long of me just avoiding her. But I just feel like there's unresolved anger still. 

"Hey," I say. 

She folds her arms over her chest, keeping her face stone cold, as she replies, "Hey."

"Can we talk?"

She looks back at her friends quickly before nodding. Then she walks over to a corner of the house behind the stairs where there aren't a bunch of people around. There, I feel slightly less agitated, knowing no one else will hear if this goes poorly. 

"I want to say again I'm sorry."

"EJ, I know," she responds calmly, and I feel a weight lift off my chest. "It just took me some time."

"Thank you," I breathe. "But I still feel really bad about how things ended."

"You know, I was upset for a while," she agrees, "but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was coming from the start."

That's where I get lost. "What do you mean?"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on, EJ. You wouldn't kiss me for two months, and I was always the one planning the dates. I thought you were just not very romantic or didn't like to show your feelings. But then I thought of something else, and when you came in with Ricky, it made a lot more sense." She lets out a sigh. "Can I ask you something? And I don't want you to be offended, because I don't mean it that way."

"What's the question?" 

I can already feel where this is headed, and it makes my throat tighten. Part of me wants to just end the conversation here, but I also trust Freya, and I'm going to have to tell my friends eventually, so it might be easiest starting with her. 

"Are you gay?" she asks. 

It takes me a moment before I can get my voice to respond, "Yes."

She just nods at that and unfolds her arms. "Yeah, that's what I thought. And so Ricky...?"

"Yeah," I say, and she knows what that means. 

"Okay," she breathes. "Well, he seems cool, and you both, um... Yeah, just..." She lets out a breath. "I'm over it. I'm not here to judge you, and although I do wish you would've been more upfront with me from the start, I get why you weren't."

"Thank you," I say. "I was really scared. I'm still really scared. I haven't told anyone else."

"I think they'll be fine with it," Freya tells me. "Earlier, Chris and Harley kissed during spin-the-bottle, so I don't think anyone's too against it."

She laughs lightly, and I let that spread to me. Telling her was nowhere near as hard as I thought it would be. I guess telling the others won't be so difficult either. 

"Should I tell them now?" I wonder. 

"You can tell them whenever you want," Freya replies. 

I nod and wait a moment before saying, "I'll tell them the next time we're not at a party."

"And I'll support you," she says with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this didn't quite get where I was going, but I rerouted it to be more in the next chapter. Love you guys. Bye.


	12. Chapter 12

**Ricky's POV**   
  
  


The scent of the canola field wafts through the open car window as EJ drives us past. The yellow reflects the sunlight in a blinding way, emitting back the August heat. EJ and I have found this routine. I wake up, he picks me up, and we go places. It doesn't matter where. We just go somewhere to be alone and be ourselves. Sometimes that involves his friends, who have been looped in on my our relationship. Telling them wasn't much of a spectacle, just a simple "We're dating," followed by an "Are you gonna drive or not?" The only people of importance who remain in the dark are EJ's family. I don't know when he's going to tell them, but that's okay. Not everyone needs to know. This is his secret to reveal when he finds the right time.

"Do you want to stop here?" EJ asks, glancing out at the canola.

I shake my head. "Nah. Keep going a bit."

The car pushes onward, and the wind rustles my curly hair as it swoops in and out of the car in waves. After a moment, I spot a stream running alongside the road, and I trace it with my eyes all the way until is pulls away under a fence, carrying on into a forest of pine trees.

"Stop here," I say.

EJ pulls over off the road and onto the grass. I climb out onto the mud at the edge of the water and begin walking down the blue.

"Where are we going?" EJ asks.

"I don't know," I respond. "Wherever this stream goes."

I duck underneath the fence and continue following it. EJ catches up to me, knotting his fingers through mine when he does. It's become habit when we're near each other. The closer we are, the stronger the desire to connect with him is.

After a while of trudging between trees, the branches open up, and the stream splits into three, curling around giant stones that stick out of the hillside like stairs, but the most amazing part of it all is the view. At some point during the drive, we managed to go up high enough that now the ground dips down into a valley, and the trees paint the land and frame the sky before us. I stop there at the water's divide and just gaze out at everything. This is definitely going to be one of the things I'll miss when I go back to Utah. The other thing is the one holding my hand.

"How can Earth be like this?" I question. "It's so..."

"Incredible," EJ completes.

"I wish I had a camera so I could capture this and look at it all the time."

"That would be nice, but I know something that would be even better to be able to see all the time."

I tried using that line one time with Nini when we were dating, but she just said it was cliche. That might've been because I didn't really mean it. I mean, I thought I did, but not the way I know I can now. With EJ saying it, I really do believe it, and it makes me pull him in and kiss him, breathing in every inch of his spirit that he gives me.

It's all perfect until I notice the flash of blue and red lights flickering through the trees, and I realize maybe that fence had a purpose.

_________________________________________

**EJ's POV**   
  
  


"Trespassing," my mother says. "EJ, what were you thinking?"

I lean against my car outside our house. My mom hasn't been able to lecture me yet until now, and the red dust sprays the sidewalk while she stands on the other side of it, facing me in frustration. I definitely didn't plan on ending up at a police station today, but I guess life is full of surprises. I'm just lucky that they let me go without pressing any charges.

"We didn't know," I respond.

"Really? There was a fence and you didn't know you couldn't cross it?"

"I wasn't thinking about the fence."

"Well, what were you thinking about?"

Honest? Ricky. I was thinking about him. He's all I cared about—care about. I hope his dad isn't being too hard on him because of this.

"Nothing," I mumble.

"Yes, I guessed that much," my mom huffs.

She looks at me for another moment before dropping her head downward and letting out a breath.

"I guess I should be happy it wasn't anything more serious," she says. "There are a lot worse things you could've been arrested for. I suppose crossing a fence isn't worth getting so upset over."

My mom tends to follow this path. She gets really mad at first, but then she becomes understanding.

"I'm surprised the friend you get in trouble with was Ricky and not one of the other ones. Ricky's much more responsible than them from what I know."

Hearing Ricky being called a friend feels weird every time. It shouldn't. I'm the reason they don't know. I could tell her. I've been keeping this from her for a long time now. Just the thought of coming out makes me nervous, but when my pulse reaches its tipping point, it falls into a rhythm that I know I can't stop easily. This is going to be the feeling no matter whether I tell her now or another day, so I guess I should just stop stalling.

"Ricky's not a friend, you know."

My mother looks confused. "I assumed, since you see him all the time—"

"He's more."

She goes quiet, waiting for me to explain.

"Mom," I start, my voice quaking, "I'm gay."

Her eyes stay open wide for a minute, and she just stares at me, taking in what I told her. I consider whether I should get back into my car and start driving, but then she finally speaks.

"Okay."

"Okay?" _That's all?_

"Yes, okay," she confirms. "The times are changing. I think we're both lucky that we live in the time that we do, for you because you can be yourself, and for me because I don't have to fear that I could lose my son to ignorant people who can't understand you enough to let you be yourself."

I think that's the best thing she could've said. Tears well in my eyes, and I try to blink them away, but I can't, so I just step forward and embrace my mom in a hug, which she accepts entirely. This was the easy start. Next is my dad. I don't know how that will go, but at least I know that my mom has my back.

________________________________________

Whenever my brothers or I want my dad to say yes to something, we always ask him during the football game, because then he's always too focused on the screen to really pay attention, and he tends to just agree with anything thrown his way. This could be the ideal time to bring up the topic I need to, my sitting next to him on the couch. I wait until there's a touchdown when he cheers, and then I say it.

"I'm gay."

He does nothing. Did he not hear me? I muster up the courage and try again.

"I'm—"

"I got you the first time," my dad cuts me off.

I look ahead again, trying not to let my body go into full terror mode quite yet. Nothing's happened yet. He hasn't said anything. That's not necissarily bad. Calm down. He's processing. It's—"

"I'm sorry," he says.

"What?" That wasn't the response I was expecting.

"I've made so many jokes. I just didn't think one of my kids would be—" he needs a second to grasp the word "—gay."

"It's okay," I respond.

I'm just happy he's not yelling. His past of homophobic comments is a lot better than what could've been.

"It's not okay," my dad says. "I don't say it often, but I do love you, and I hope you don't think less of me because of everything I've said about...your people."

I never really thought of all the gays as my people, but I suppose that's a pretty good force to have behind me. And they're not all I have, because I have my family, all of them. Well, I'll have all of them once I tell my brothers, but I don't see that being an issue. They're pretty chill.

"I love you too, Dad."

He smiles at me, and the two of us return to watching the game, still father and son, now more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left. I love you guys. Bye!


	13. Chapter 13

**Ricky's POV**

Sunflowers face the sun, but when they can't find the sun, they face each other. To them, another sunflower is as close to the sun as they can have. It's not the same thing, but they don't care. It's their natural response, automatic, unquestioned. But if the sun is gone, and there are no sunflowers around, where does it look? 

EJ was my sunflower. He was where I turned when I needed help finding peace. He controlled my wheel, both literally and figuratively. He drove me forward, and I was okay with going farther than I'd been before. I wanted him to take me beyond what I knew. And without him—

"Ricky!"

I shatter out of my thoughts at Big Red's voice, remembering in an instant where I am. I am not in Stale, B.C. I'm in the East High cafeteria. We're only a day into school, but it feels like a year. Everyone around me catches up with their friends at their tables, and I wish I could do the same with Big Red, but I can't stop feeling like this is wrong, like my life was left behind in Canada, and now I'm walking and breathing, but nothing's really happening. I'm starting to wonder if I made it all up, if I was reading a story and accidentally pushed myself into it, but none of it was truly real.

"What's got you so down?" Big Red asks. 

_**One Week Earlier** _

__

Our legs dangle over the edge of Not-Quite-As-Big Rock. Our first run with the law a few weeks ago didn't scare us enough to kill the dream I had to see what the sunset looks like atop this giant slab of stone. EJ's arm hangs over me, and we just sit here, watching the sky melt from yellow to orange to red like candle wax. As the colours drain and grow bolder, it crosses my mind that I've never felt this way before. I've never been with someone whom I never wanted to leave, who was a filter blocking every bad thing, leaving only the good to kiss me. 

"I'm really gonna miss you," I say softly. 

EJ's hand rubs my shoulder and brings me in tighter. 

"You won't miss me for long," he responds. 

"Trust me," I whisper. "I'll miss you forever. I love you."

I've never said those words before. It's ironic how I couldn't say them back to Nini, but now I can say them to EJ first. I just didn't know what love was back then. But now I get it. Love is this, us on top of a rock, trying to hold on to every last second we have. Love is wanting every second to last a lifetime. 

After a moment of pure silence, EJ responds, "I love you too."

**_Present Day_ **

Was it just one of those indie, summer films where the experience I had will get lost in the wind as time blows by? Was EJ nothing more than my sexual awakening? Is this it? 

I think about Big Red's question. I haven't told him about EJ yet, maybe because I'm still trying to put him into words, but the dictionary simply doesn't hold any that accurately portray what that boy meant to me.

"There were just a lot of things in B.C. that felt like home," I reply. 

Big Red nods, and we both go back to eating. People continue to chatter, and I catch glimpses of their worlds as I listen in. 

"My history teacher is awful," complains one girl.

"I almost lost my hamster this morning," says another. 

"My cousin is coming to stay with my family for the long weekend," says a red-headed girl to her friend.

"Where's your cousin from?" her friend, a dark-haired boy with glasses, asks her. 

"He's from a town called Stale, B.C."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this little ending. I really like it. I hope you also liked the story. I appreciate everyone who read it. Thank you so much <3


End file.
